


Tisis Tarts III: Cavaliers Gone Wild

by Elldritch



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: A stupendous work of a titty nature, A vague attempt at safer sex practices, F/F, Human Furniture, Vaginal Fingering, sword fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:21:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elldritch/pseuds/Elldritch
Summary: “Oh… oh … so this is, like, a sex thing?”Harrow decides to read one of Gideon's magazines.Written for the Kinktober 'Human Furniture' prompt. It went... places
Relationships: Gideon Nav/Harrowhark Nonagesimus
Comments: 8
Kudos: 100
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	Tisis Tarts III: Cavaliers Gone Wild

“Are you serious?” Gideon asked, incredulously.

“Have you ever found me to be anything less than serious, Griddle?”

“But, I mean, you could just get a skeleton to do it!”

“I don’t _want_ a skeleton to do it. I want you.”

“Why? I don’t get it.”

“Luckily for you, you don’t have to get it. You simply have to obey. You can do that for me, can’t you Gideon? You know how much I love it when you’re a good girl for me…”

“Oh… _oh_ … so this is, like, a sex thing?”

Harrow didn’t dignify Gideon’s question with a response. Instead, Harrow simply raked her eyes over Gideon’s bare body. Which, Gideon supposed was fair - Harrow wouldn’t have implied that Gideon shouldn’t bother getting dressed again after her shower if her plans for the evening had been wholly platonic.

“Kneel for me.” 

Gideon knelt.

It had taken a long time for Gideon and Harrow to be comfortable with each other, and there had been a lot of misunderstandings along the way, from the near-catastrophic - Gideon’s conviction that Harrow did not, and could not love her - to the relatively minor - Gideon’s _deeply_ faulty assumption that she’d naturally take the leading role in the bedroom.

Over the course of months, they’d figured out the basics of what worked for them - and what didn’t. Now, Gideon was gradually realising that Harrow possessed the heart of a control freak, the mind of a scientist, and the imagination of a pervert. Gideon had never been happier.

This wasn’t the first time that Harrow had suggested something Gideon had been initially skeptical of, but since Harrow’s suggestions had resulted in some of the best nights of her cavalier’s life, Gideon was learning to trust these twisted little notions.

Though… this one in particular - _hold my book for me while I read, Griddle_ \- seemed to have exactly nothing to do with sex.

Gideon watched with curiosity as Harrow dragged a low chair closer until it was just touching Gideon’s knees. Then she went away again, and returned with…

“That’s not a book!”

“It’s close enough. Arms out.” 

Harrow sat in the chair, her legs spread wide, feet on either side of Gideon’s knees. After some adjustments, she had Gideon positioned to her satisfaction; Gideon’s forearms were held out in front of her, palms up, fingers curled to hold one of her own magazines, propped up against her body, pages open and facing Harrow. This was one of Gideon's favourites - Tisis Tarts III: Cavaliers Gone Wild, and when Gideon glanced down, she could just see the bottom half of the page. It was the conclusion of the scene where fictional cavalier Flirty Fortuna the Fourth challenged her rival, Sultry Salome, cavalier primary of the Sixth house, to a duel, with one item of clothing forfeited for each touch. This was the page where she declared victory - Fortuna stood triumphant, naked from the waist up, with Salome’s panties dangling from the tip of her rapier like a trophy. 

“Eyes up.” Gideon looked up into her necromancer’s face as Harrow sprawled with surprising grace in the chair. “Here’s how this is going to work. For tonight, you are not my cavalier. You are not my girlfriend. You are not even my toy. Tonight, you are simply an inanimate object, made to serve me. You will kneel there, and you will not move, and you will not speak, and if you’re _very_ good, then I’ll give you a reward.”

Gideon had enough experience with Harrow’s _rewards,_ to know that she desperately wanted to be very good. But then, how hard could it be to just sit still for a bit?

Then, Harrow leaned back in her chair, and unclasped the pin holding her robes closed, and Gideon saw that she wore nothing beneath them. With apparent indifference to Gideon’s hungry gaze on her bare skin, Harrow reached out an arm, and began casually flipping pages back and forth in Tisis Tarts III.

“You know, I’m honestly surprised you didn’t figure out sooner what my problem with your trashy magazines was,” Harrow said in an idle, contemplative voice - as if they were sat at the breakfast table, not naked and staring at each other over an excellent work of a titty nature. “I don’t mind that you read pornography, Griddle, but I’ve always been a little disappointed that your tastes were so prosaic.”

Harrow sighed, and turned another page, apparently dissatisfied by the depictions of Flirty Fortuna’s workout routine, which consisted mainly of jumping jacks, squats, and stretches, all performed nude, and shot from some _imaginative_ angles. Impracticality aside - Fortuna was far too well-endowed to be working out naked - Gideon didn’t see what there was not to like.

Then, with the hand which she wasn’t using to leaf through Gideon’s magazine, Harrow reached between her legs, and Gideon forgot all about Flirty Fortuna.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me, Griddle, indulging my little whims. I know that some of my predilections are… esoteric… to say the least, but you’ve been most accommodating.” Though Harrow was clearly speaking to Gideon, there was something in her voice which gave it the feel of someone talking to themselves in an empty room. Gideon felt her mind retreating to someplace quiet, inert. She was sinking fully into this thing Harrow had made of her - she was mute, passive, inanimate… oh, and fucking _dying_ of horniness.

Harrow turned another page, and Gideon couldn’t help glancing down, momentarily, to see exactly what Harrow was looking at, as she began to move her fingers in long, deliberate strokes up and down the length of her vulva. This page was one of Gideon’s favourites; Fortuna and Salome were arm-wrestling, topless, their biceps bulging with effort.

“Do you know,” Gideon’s eyes flickered briefly to Harrow’s face when she spoke, before settling back on her exposed cunt, “I think you’re learning to enjoy some of the things I make you do. And even when you don’t precisely like the activities themselves, I can see that you take great pleasure in pleasing me. And _oh, Gideon_ , you do please me.”

Gideon couldn’t help but press her thighs together; her cunt throbbed in response to Harrow’s words, as it always did when Harrow said things like that. Gideon had been somewhat chagrined to discover quite how easy her buttons were to push, and quite how much Harrow enjoyed pushing them. But then, Gideon wasn’t a twisted ex-nun with a power fetish - she’d only lived inside one for a while. 

“So, I thought it would be only fair if I spent a little more time trying to understand _your_ fantasies…” Harrow continued. She had apparently found a page she liked; she stopped fussing with the magazine, and instead leaned even further back in her seat, lifting one leg to rest it on Gideon’s shoulder, giving Gideon a perfectly spectacular view as she spread her labia with one long-fingered hand, gently circling her clit, before starting to work a single digit inside her cunt.

Gideon was spellbound. She could feel Harrow’s foot move against her shoulder, toes curling in pleasure, and she could smell Harrow’s arousal. It wasn’t that she’d never seen Harrow from this angle before, but she’d never truly taken the time to appreciate the view, always too impatient, too busy touching Harrow to really look at her. Now, she looked. She saw the tiny half-moon marks Harrow’s nails left in her breast, already darkening with the faintest hint of a bruise. She saw Harrow’s index finger disappearing, knuckle by knuckle, into her cunt and coming out glistening, saw when she added a second finger, working it inside herself just as gradually as the first. Gideon could feel the tightness of her as vividly as if it was her own fingers stretching her necromancer open; she was intimately familiar with the sensation, had fucked Harrow countless times with fingers and tongue, but she’d never watched Harrow do this herself.

“So, what am I to learn about Gideon Nav from reading her pornography?” Harrow asked rhetorically. Her voice was level, clipped, completely divorced from the actions of her fingers. No matter what else she relinquished, Harrow always maintained absolute control over her diction. Gideon sometimes dreamed of making that voice crack, making Harrow moan, making her scream. 

“I can see where you get your fascination with excessive musculature, at least - Fortuna certainly does not skip leg day, does she?”

Harrow added a third finger, and her left hand, which had been committing minor acts of violence against Harrow’s breasts, now joined the right between her legs, and she took her clit between thumb and forefinger, alternately pinching and caressing it in a well-practised rhythm.

“So what is it that appeals to you about this magazine, hmm? I can’t believe it’s the plot; there are only so many times one can ‘accidentally’ lose all of one’s clothes before the necessary suspension of disbelief becomes quite impossible.” 

_Holy shit,_ Gideon thought, realising that Harrow had slipped four whole fingers inside herself now. Harrow’s fingers were more slender than Gideon’s, of course, but Gideon had never tried to use any more than two when she fucked Harrow. Gideon was almost light-headed with desire; for all her determination to earn the reward Harrow had promised her, she wasn’t sure how much more of this she could watch while her own cunt ached like a bruise, empty and unstimulated, clenching jealously around nothing.

“Perhaps I’m overcomplicating things; could it be that you just gravitate towards fantasies of a cavalier screwing her necromancer?” With those words, Gideon knew, even without looking down, the page that Harrow had chosen to fuck herself to. It was the climax of the whole story; after a series of increasingly implausible and sexually charged competitions between the cavaliers, Fortuna had been ranked first among them all, and now her necromancer, overcome with lust at Fortuna’s hotness and prowess, was draped with abandon over a weapons rack while Fortuna fucked her with the hilt of her sheathed off-hand dagger.

It was an image Gideon had come back to, time and again, telling herself it was just the innate sexiness of all those weapons which caught her attention, and nothing to do with the necromancer. It had been a lie, but Gideon had spent a lot of time and energy over the years concealing her feelings for Harrow - even from herself.

“Of course, your blade is so much _larger_ than hers, isn’t it, Griddle?”

Gideon watched as Harrow, with agonising slowness, withdrew her fingers from herself, and then - even if she hadn’t already been commanded to be silent, Gideon would have been speechless in that moment - Harrow reached around behind the chair, and revealed Gideon’s two-hander.

 _Fuck, the kinky witch has been planning this!_ Gideon realised, seeing the wet sheen of a well-lubricated condom protecting the pommel and grip. Before she could quite believe what was happening, Harrow had - with some difficulty, due to the weight of the blade - arranged Gideon’s sword so that the end of the scabbard was nestled between Gideon’s legs, the very tip resting tantalisingly close to Gideon’s clit. With the cross-guard securely braced against the seat of the chair, the rounded pommel was positioned perfectly for Harrow to start working it inside herself. 

“So I had to prepare myself first, you see?”

Gideon did see. _Fuck_. She saw every detail as first the pommel, then, one by one, the ridges of the grip slid into Harrow’s cunt. Finally, Harrow appeared to have taken it in as far as she could. She met Gideon’s gaze with half-lidded eyes, and her lips twisted into a wicked smile.

“I think it’s time for your reward.”

With that, Harrow began to move her hips, fucking herself on the hilt of Gideon’s sword, slowly at first, and then picking up pace. With each thrust of Harrow’s hips, the carefully-positioned point of the scabbard rubbed against Gideon’s clit, and she realised that - without Harrow even touching her at all - Gideon was achingly close to the edge. 

“ _Harrow...”_ Gideon begged, and it was only _just_ a word, only a fraction short of being a scream.

“Yes.” Harrow breathed, and Gideon didn’t know when it had happened, but Harrow’s hand was back on her clit, and her hips were moving faster and faster, stuttering in their rhythm, and then…

Gideon’s back arched, her whole body spasming with the force of her orgasm, and Harrow’s spare hand was holding hers, gripping it tight as Harrow threw her head back, lip caught between her teeth as it always was during climax.

Tisis Tarts III: Cavaliers Gone Wild fell to the floor, utterly forgotten.

**Author's Note:**

> Rest assured, this fic takes place in nebulous future time when Gideon's sword has been thoroughly exorcised, ritually cleansed, and contains not the faintest trace of Mommy Wake.


End file.
